


There's Two of Me

by sickly _sweet (sketchy_and_unformed)



Category: CKY (Band)
Genre: Alcoholism, Character Study, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, sex as a coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-17
Updated: 2007-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:46:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketchy_and_unformed/pseuds/sickly%20_sweet
Summary: There are places that Deron can only go to with James, places that Felissa will never even know exist, and he needs to keep it that way. It’s better for all of them.
Relationships: Deron Miller/Felissa Rose, Deron Miller/James Murphy
Collections: Livejournal reposts: CKY/HIM





	There's Two of Me

He’s been drinking again the afternoon that he’s due to meet James. The plan is to go over the solos for ‘Under The Autumn Low’ together, but it doesn’t really matter because he’s used to playing drunk by now and it doesn’t seem to affect his fingers. Maybe he shouldn’t be driving but halfway there and he hasn’t fucked up yet, going slightly fast but he hasn’t so much as run a red light. He’s been careful.  
  
The sun is shining full on and hot, reminding Deron why he moved to California as he parks at the studio and steps out of the car, shielding his eyes with one hand. The heat of the day is at its peak, it’s the kind of heat that makes him sweat and itch and Deron revels in the lazy, stifling feel of it, his limbs fluid as he walks. It’s all air conditioned inside and there aren’t many windows—light damage is no good for the equipment—so he enjoys the weather while he can until James meets him at the door, smiling wide and ushering him in.  
  
Immediately the semi-darkness of being inside feels like it’s dragging Deron down and he has to fight against it and the liquor in his bloodstream threatening to make the feeling worse. He manages to shake it off because in all other ways, this is a very good day for him. Sometimes Deron still can’t quite believe that this is James Murphy laying down guitars for his songs, James Murphy _liking_ his songs, he finds laughter rising inside him sometimes with the weird greatness of it and it picks him up on that day, almost as if the sun is still shining in somehow, unseen and unfelt but warming him all the same.  
  
James is already talking at him as he guides Deron through labyrinthine corridors, eyes sparkling beneath the peak of his baseball cap, his voice deep and rich with enthusiasm. “It was a lot of work sorting through the tracks,” he says, hand on Deron’s back, “I think we ended up with five layers of vocals altogether out of the seventeen tracks that I started with.” His laughter is more warmth in the building, into Deron. “I guess you being a perfectionist really paid off though, because the song sounds _awesome_.”  
  
They get to the room with the mixing desk and the computer, and James leaves Deron’s side to switch on the monitor, Pro Tools flashing onto the screen. Deron leans in closer and sees his music in waveforms, peaks and troughs replacing every scream, and it’s weird seeing his creativity mapped out like that. James notices his expression and smiles. “You get used to it,” he says. James seems very solid, very real, this could be because he’s ten years older but somehow it’s not, it’s just who he is. He’s calm and still and slow and it settles Deron, holds him down.  
  
Deron finds a place to sit while James tinkers on the computer and soon he hears a guitar solo spilling from the speakers, notes surrounding him in legato runs and entwined harmonies threading through his head and Deron thinks that if he’d still been standing he would have fallen over because the solo _floors_ him. For a moment he’s speechless and James is smiling at him again, almost laughing but not quite.  
  
“That good huh?” he says, and Deron finally manages a distant sort of grin.  
  
“It’s… _great_.” A laugh burst out of him. “James, fuck…that’s insane. You really wanna waste that kind of solo on one of my songs?”  
  
It’s just the way James looks at him that makes his chest swell with pride, as if he could really stand up there next to all of his idols, and now he’s really grinning and everything feels so good right then, perfect. He grabs for a guitar and then the afternoon really gets started.  
  
They mess around with the song on the computer and on guitars, getting the timing and the volume just right, and it takes up most of the day. When Deron leaves the studio he’s totally sober and the sun is starting to set in the west.  
  


☆

  
  
Deron gets home a few minutes after dark and takes a moment to smoke a cigarette in the car. He’s allowed to smoke indoors of course, it’s his house after all, but sometimes he feels bad about it all the same for leaving nicotine stains on the ceilings and for making the drapes smell of ash. Once he was able to smell the smoke in Felissa’s hair and there’s a part of him that’s never forgiven himself for that.  
  
She’s in the kitchen when he goes inside; through the open doorway he sees her turn and smile brightly as he closes the front door behind him. Whatever she’s cooking smells amazing and he crosses the living room in a few long strides, they meet halfway and Deron envelops Felissa in a hug, her thin arms reaching up to clasp around his neck as he pulls her body against his, breathing in the clean scent of her. When they kiss he can feel her smile, still, against his lips and it makes his pulse seem to catch, his hands settling lightly on her waist.  
  
“Missed you,” Felissa murmurs and Deron pulls back to take her in, the shine in her dark eyes and that smile that still lingers softly on her full lips, and all he can do is kiss her again, his beautiful wife. He has always loved this, the rush of coming home to find her waiting, the love that rises inside him like a tide and the way that she looks and feels and smells so different to anything else in his day, so feminine and small in his arms.  
  
She feels the same way later on when they make love, delicate. Deron can fold her right into his arms and hold on tight while he rocks into her, all heat and silk and her soft gasps under the covers when the lights are out, her skin pliable beneath his hands, her body inviting him in. He goes slow and gentle until Felissa kisses him deeply and shudders and groans into his mouth and only then can Deron let himself go, Felissa stroking his hair when he buries his face in her neck at the end and exhales.  
  


☆

  
  
James is slightly taller than Deron, not much but a little, and his hands tangle into Deron’s hair and stay there, pull him forward until their lips touch. The first thing that Deron feels is an all-over shock of revulsion, but then James is holding him so tightly, keeping him there and pushing his tongue into Deron’s mouth, and the revulsion has no ground to stand on anymore.  
  
Deron isn’t used to the scrape of stubble against his skin but he knows in that moment that he will get used to it. James’ hair is dark like black coffee and his eyes are dark and his clothes are dark and he seems to draw in all of the light in the room and hold it just beneath his surface, behind a smile that goes on forever. When James splits him in two Deron cries out sharp and brief but it’s not really pain, it feels more like completion, and later when he comes he barely even feels it because it doesn’t make everything stop, it all carries on regardless.  
  


☆

  
  
Sometimes Deron falls asleep right after he and Felissa make love but mostly he doesn’t. Instead he waits until she has dozed off before slipping out of bed as carefully as he can, pausing to smooth the blankets over her on his way out of the room. Some nights he’ll watch DVDs of horror movies he’s already seen dozens of times, the volume low, some nights he tries to write songs in the basement, but a lot of the time Deron finds himself on the front porch with a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey, just waiting for the sun to come up.  
  
Felissa finds him there in the morning on the days that she gets up early, offering him a sympathetic smile and a cup of coffee as she sits down beside him. “Maybe you should see a doctor,” she says gently, not pushing him but it isn’t the first time she’s said it by a long way, and Deron always shrugs and keeps his eyes on the skyline. There’s something he likes about being outside at night, counting the stars in the silence, and there’s no reason for him to change things.  
  


☆

  
  
“Fuck.”  
  
“What?”  
  
Deron slides his chair back from the computer and stands up, pushing his hair roughly away from his face. “It’s nothing. Just the kids on the message boards. They’ve been downloading the new songs.” He lights a cigarette and crosses the room slowly, holding the smoke in, controlling his movements.  
  
James’ eyes flash and he puts down his guitar and slips into the chair that Deron has vacated, eyes quickly scanning the computer screen before he starts tapping at the keyboard. Deron turns and frowns.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Giving them hell,” James replies, still typing. Deron laughs and steps closer, reading the screen over James’ shoulder and wincing at what he sees.  
  
“Come on, they’re just kids. You’re gonna make them cry.”  
  
James shrugs. “Well _you_ weren’t gonna do anything about it. They went against your wishes and that’s a sign of disrespect. I’m not gonna let them get away with it.” There’s a small smile on his face as he concentrates on what he’s typing and it makes Deron smile too as he watches the words flying from James’ fingertips and onto the screen, filling up line after line until he finally hits the ‘reply’ button and sits back, satisfied. “There. They might still download but at least now they’ll feel bad about it.”  
  
Deron draws on his cigarette and shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “I can fight my own battles. If I’d wanted to call them out…”  
  
“Yeah I know,” James cuts him off, eyes flashing again with humour. “It’s just more fun this way.”  
  


☆

  
  
“It’s kind of a huge deal,” Felissa says, pacing around the kitchen, shoes tapping against the linoleum with every step while Deron watches her move and listens to her talk. “You know I haven’t starred in anything this major for five years, I’m not used to learning that many lines.” Her voice rises a little. “I’m going to be back and forth between here and New York and you know how much those flights cost on such short notice, so if this doesn’t work out…” She presses a hand to her mouth and her eyes fill suddenly with tears. Deron is on his feet in a heartbeat and pulling her into his arms.  
  
“Sweetheart, you can do this, I know you can. I’ve seen you act and you’re phenomenal.” Felissa sniffles against his chest and he wraps his arms tightly around her and strokes her back. “You’re going to be amazing. I believe in you one hundred percent. And if you need me to come out there with you…”  
  
“That would be really good,” she says in a broken voice, then looks up at him with huge, tearful eyes. “Unless you’re busy. I mean, you don’t have to come, but…”  
  
Deron smiles down at her and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll book our flights tonight. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”  
  


☆

  
  
Deron phones James from New York City, when he’s wandering around Manhattan alone. “Felissa is in a script meeting and I’m bored as fuck,” he says by way of greeting. James laughs at him.  
  
“She got the part then?”  
  
“Of course she did. The other actresses were all like eighteen with no experience, they probably blew the director to even get an audition.”  
  
“Come home.”  
  
Deron winces as he walks into the Virgin Megastore in Times Square, avoiding groups of teenagers as he takes the escalator downstairs and heads over to the rock section. “She still needs me here,” he says, flipping through CDs and smiling when he finds the Malevolent Creation compilation with his liner notes on the back. “You’re not married, you wouldn’t understand.”  
  
“I might,” James replies. “But seriously man, fuck Felissa, come home.” Deron laughs and he can almost hear the smile in James’ voice, distorted but still with that warmth and depth to it that even the shittiest signal couldn’t disguise. “Okay, you know I didn’t mean that. But things were going so great with World Under Blood before you left, we were really…” he pauses and Deron bites his lip, “…in the zone. You know?”  
  
“Yeah, I know. Next week, okay? Promise.”  
  
“Looking forward to it.” James hangs up and Deron goes back to browsing through CDs that he either doesn’t want or already owns, his cell phone weighing heavy in his pocket. There’s another two hours until he’s due to meet Felissa.  
  


☆

  
  
When Deron gets home from New York James is sitting in his driveway with a six pack of beer, the porch light making a silhouette of him, a silhouette with a bright contrasting halo. Deron hops out of the taxi and pays the driver before walking over to James, a grin spreading over his face. James just nods.  
  
“We can go somewhere else if you don’t want…”  
  
“No,” Deron says, “it’s cool. We can stay here.”  
  
Over the course of the evening Deron gets drunker than he has in a long time, since before the meltdown and the clinic. There are still bottles stashed around the house that he forgot to throw out. He drinks vodka from the bottle on the front porch with James and chain smokes and they bring a CD player outside, hooked up to an extension cord, and listen to death metal for hours. The nearest neighbours are far enough away and everything looks orange and grey from the porch light, trees and hedges and the red brick of the driveway, beyond that the road that’s too far into the dark to be seen.  
  
Deron wakes up in the guest bedroom to a splitting headache but also to the feel of James’ mouth around him, beneath the sheets that are sticking to his naked skin in the heat of the morning. He comes quickly, shielding his eyes from the sunlight slanting through the curtains, and his headache seems to pause for a few minutes while he catches his breath and the tension melts out of his body. James smiles on the way to the shower and Deron falls back asleep to the sound of running water and his soft humming beneath it.  
  


☆

  
  
At first Deron calls Felissa every day in New York and they talk for hours. He calls her at midnight Pacific Time so that it’s only nine in the evening for her, and he lies in bed in the dark and listens to her talk. Her voice seems to bubble down the phone line, full of enthusiasm and joy and it makes his heart swell for her, it helps him to relax, although he still doesn’t sleep until the morning.  
  
After almost a week Felissa doesn’t always answer when he calls. She texts him later to apologise, citing production meetings and dinner arrangements as the cause of her busyness, but after the second time of missing her Deron stops calling. He knows that Felissa can get in touch with him if she needs to, but she seems to be doing just fine in New York, and he’s genuinely glad that it’s working out so well for her.  
  
The day that she is due home for a couple of weeks in between filming, Deron makes an early start of his day so that he can make lunch for the two of them, spreading a tablecloth out in the back yard with sandwiches and wine and cupcakes that he managed to bake himself. He tidies up the kitchen and vacuums the house and empties all of the ashtrays scattered around and throws out the empty vodka bottles before she gets home, then he sits on the front porch in the sunshine and waits for her.  
  
A taxi pulls up at about two-thirty and Felissa’s slim legs are the first thing that he sees, followed by the rest of her covered in a pretty floral dress, a large sunhat over her dark hair. She beams and waves before skipping up the driveway to meet him, almost jumping into his arms. She smells like her usual soft perfume and Deron breathes in deeply, only then realising how much he has missed her.  
  
When Felissa sees the picnic laid out in the backyard she presses her hands to her mouth and gasps before bouncing up and down a little. “Oh sweetie, you didn’t have to do this!”  
  
Deron slips an arm around her waist and replies “I wanted to,” then he turns her towards him and kisses her deeply, leaning against the sliding glass doors and bringing her with him, his hands on her waist, the two of them a perfect fit. She tastes of lipstick and a little like red wine and she places her palms against his chest and pushes herself back gently, an apology in her eyes.  
  
“I’m so sorry baby, but I ate at the airport. I didn’t know you were going to go to all this trouble, I didn’t even know if you’d be home. I feel so bad now.”  
  
“Hey,” Deron soothes, stroking her hair until the anxiety falls out of her expression. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to do something nice for you. I love you.”  
  
She leans her head on his shoulder. “I love you too, Deron.”  
  
After that he takes her hand and leads her upstairs where they make love, the afternoon sunlight falling golden across her shoulders as she moves on top of him, their legs tangled up in the sheets. Felissa laughs softly into his ear, the sound breathy and light, and Deron realises that he never got around to changing the sheets in the guest bedroom. She leaves lipstick marks on his chest and they hold hands in silence afterwards, the food outside long forgotten.  
  


☆

  
  
Deron still sees James when Felissa is around. He drives over to his house and they play guitar together, duelling with their solos, fiercely competitive until one of them messes up or breaks a string or simply bursts out laughing and the atmosphere snaps and falls away. It’s usually James who cracks first, and sometimes Deron wonders if he is letting him win at this game. He has an extra ten years experience over Deron, after all.  
  
But Deron sees James more when Felissa is gone. Those are the times when he really binges on the drink, far beyond a glass of wine over a plate of food. Those are the times that he sometimes gets through two packs of cigarettes a day instead of just one, and it’s always a two-pack kind of day when he drives over to see James, too fast and with his eyes fixed on the centre line the whole journey.  
  
When James opens the door Deron falls inside, the bottle of whatever he’s been drinking still clutched tightly in his hand, and he says “Jesus fuck I _miss_ her, James” and tries to kiss him. And James always takes him up to his own bedroom and they lie on sheets that smell faintly of his sweat, and sometimes James just holds onto Deron to make him stop shaking. Sometimes he has to light his cigarettes for him and make sure he doesn’t set himself alight, and most times he has to take Deron to the bathroom to throw up and stays with him there all night until there’s nothing left in him and he collapses onto the tiles, then James helps him up and puts him to bed, letting him sleep for most of the day.  
  
On one of these days Deron wakes up and it’s still light outside, he guesses about three in the afternoon but he can’t be sure. The curtains are drawn so the room is murky with half-light and shadows and James is gone, maybe just downstairs or maybe somewhere else altogether, another thing that Deron can’t be sure of until he hears the ping of the microwave and after that James’ tread on the stairs, getting closer.  
  
The smell of coffee enters the room before James does but he’s not far behind, a tray balanced on one hand as he opens the door with the other, smiling to see Deron awake and blinking dully in his direction. “I made food if you can handle it,” he says, and Deron smiles.  
  
“Thanks.” He clears his throat to try and get rid of the scratchiness in his voice, wincing. “I’m feeling pretty okay, I guess because I threw everything up already.”  
  
James laughs. “Nice attitude, I’ve never thought of puking as a _good_ thing before.” He sets the tray carefully down at the foot of the bed and sits down beside Deron, who pushes himself up and leans back against the pillows. “I just heated up pizza from last night since there’s not much food around here. I can run out and get something better if you want.”  
  
“No, pizza sounds good.” Deron’s stomach growls in agreement and he grins sheepishly. “That coffee smells great, too.”  
  
“Milk no sugar, right?”  
  
“Exactly right.”  
  
“Can I open the curtains? Or will your head explode from all of the sunlight?”  
  
“Try it.” Deron ducks his head beneath the blankets while James pulls open the curtains, emerging hesitantly and immediately closing his eyes. “Ouch. Is the sun always this bright?”  
  
“Pretty much, yeah.”  
  
James lays a hand on Deron’s shoulder and their eyes meet. “You doing alright?”  
  
Deron pauses for a moment, then he smiles and nods.  
  
“I’m doing good, James. Real good.”  
  


☆

  
  
The insomnia is rarely a problem when Deron is with James and the alcoholism is rarely a problem when Deron is with Felissa. Somehow, these things balance each other out.  
  
“Baby,” Felissa starts one night. They’re lying in bed together in comfortable silence, her head on his chest, and she looks up at him when she speaks. “Do you maybe want to…try something new?”  
  
Deron looks down at her and smiles. “Something new like what?”  
  
Felissa bites her lip shyly and wriggles up to whisper in his ear, even though there’s nobody else around to overhear her. At her words the smile slips off of Deron’s face and his eyes widen, and when she’s finished whispering to him she pulls back and she sees his expression before he can think to hide it. Everything about her face looks vulnerable and wounded for a split second before she gathers the sheets around her body and clutches them in front of her chest, shrugging.  
  
“We don’t have to. I just thought I’d ask.”  
  
Deron sits up and puts his arms around her, pulling her close to him. “Hey, I’m sorry. Anything you want to do…”  
  
“No, really, it’s okay,” she insists, shifting a little in his arms. “I just thought…I don’t know. That maybe I could make you feel the way that you make me feel. Inside.”  
  
He squeezes her and kisses her hair. “That’s beautiful, sweetheart.”  
  
“Forget it,” she shrugs, but then sighs and nuzzles into his chest. “I understand why you’d feel weird about it. I mean, it’s different for guys. Sometimes I forget that.” She glances up with a small smile. “Let’s talk about something else, okay?”  
  
“Okay,” Deron agrees, and there’s a small feeling of relief creeping into his stomach as they lie back down together. He would do anything for Felissa, he truly would, but he would have to force himself into doing that, and not for the reasons that she thinks. There are parts of him that his wife has never seen, and she might think that she wants to know all of him but she’s wrong. There are places that Deron can only go to with James, places that Felissa will never even know exist, and he needs to keep it that way. It’s better for all of them.  
  


☆

  
  
He ends up at James’ a couple of days later, more by accident than by design, he doesn’t really remember how he got there, doesn’t remember the drive but that’s alright. James is always around and he doesn’t need to call first.  
  
It’s the kind of day where they end up in bed together, death metal on the stereo because it always is. Deron’s not too drunk but just enough, and once he forgets where he is because the bedroom window is on the wrong side for it to be home. It’s a really hot day and he sweats and James’ bedroom isn’t really where he wants to be but he needs to be there, just like every other time.  
  
When they have sex it doesn’t exactly hurt Deron but it doesn’t feel good either, it’s just a sensation that is there and happening and impossible to ignore. It’s just something that he has no control over, not once it’s started, not anymore. James Murphy is having sex with him and he lies there and lets it happen, not working, not moving and pushing and driving forward like he’s used to, just feeling. James slides big hands beneath Deron’s arms and wraps them around his shoulders like leverage and Deron closes his eyes because it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t have to see, he doesn’t have to worry, that’s James’ job. All Deron has to do is lie still and open and let strong hands pull him apart, and it isn’t better than sex with his wife but it’s just as necessary. They don’t talk apart from what James whispers into his ear and it’s always the same thing that he says, “it’s alright” over and over, like he can read Deron’s mind or feel how hard he’s holding back.  
  
James Murphy comes inside of him and Deron feels a little like crying until James pulls out and slides down his body to finish him off and then he does start to cry, hearing the echoes of James’ voice saying “it’s alright” inside his head. Tears leak out of him silently at first until it starts to feel good and then he yells—it could be in pleasure or misery, he doesn’t know—and comes hard and starts crying harder, huge sobs making his whole body shake. James doesn’t say anything but he moves up and pulls the covers around them both and fits his body to Deron’s back, arms coming around. He holds on tightly while Deron shakes and spasms and it’s a long time before Deron stops crying.  
  
After that they clean up and have a few beers although Deron has a headache by now, and he tries to play a little guitar but he’s sloppy and gives up, but James acts impressed anyway until Deron calls him out on his bullshit and he grins and admits Deron’s playing was a little off. And it’s perfect because James believes in his ability, knows that he can play guitar amazingly well, but he doesn’t always expect him to. Deron leaves that night feeling happy and secure and like his life has finally expanded into perfection, like he didn’t realise how much was missing until he found it.  
  


☆

  
  
When he gets back to his house, Deron finds Felissa half-asleep on the living room sofa, the television switched on but the volume turned down. There’s a bottle of wine tucked in between her body and the cushions and an empty glass trails from one hand. Deron quietly takes the glass and the bottle into the kitchen and turns the television off, making the whole house dark. Even in the moonlight he can see the mascara tracks on Felissa’s cheeks and he strokes his fingers down them until she stirs and fully realises who he is.  
  
“Deron? I’m sorry…what time is it?”  
  
“Doesn’t matter baby,” he whispers, kissing her forehead. Her face melts into a blissful smile before creasing into sadness.  
  
“The film, they ran out of money. It’s not getting finished. It’s over.”  
  
He manoeuvres her small body into his arms and wordlessly carries her up the stairs and into their bedroom, laying her down on the bed. She shifts a little and mumbles while he fetches a washcloth from the bathroom and gently cleans the make-up off of her skin, then he helps her out of her clothes and slides into bed beside her.  
  
It must be the middle of the night when she wakes up and starts crying, softly at first but then louder, beating her fists against Deron’s chest while he holds her tightly and soothes her with whispers and kisses, holding her arms until she stops lashing out and just collapses into tears, dampening the pillows and his skin. “The film,” she groans sometimes, and after a while her weeping fades into sniffles, and after that she sleeps again. Deron doesn’t sleep until the morning but he stays in bed this time and watches over Felissa. In sleep she looks almost child-like and he’s mesmerised by the softness of her features, by their beauty, until the first morning light starts to creep over her skin. He falls asleep with his arms still around her.  
  


☆

  
  
It’s a couple of weeks until he sees James again and they meet at the studio this time to listen to the finished version of ‘Under The Autumn Low’. James is brimming over with excitement that he keeps carefully reigned in until the song has finished playing and he turns to Deron with shining eyes.  
  
“It’s good, right? I mean, it’s _really_ good.”  
  
A huge grin fills Deron’s face. “It’s fucking amazing. Jesus. Did I really write those riffs? And your solos…James, you _have_ to produce the album. I’ll pay you double what anyone else will, even if I don’t eat for a month I’ll pay you so much…”  
  
“I’ll do it for free,” James says, and they share a smile in the air conditioned space. There are a million tiny reasons why Deron could be freaking out right now and one huge looming one, but today is not one of those days for him. It’s a normal, healthy day and Deron stays calm and centred and feels warm inside. His life feels right. This is something that James understands about him, and Deron hopes that, in time, Felissa will, too.


End file.
